


We Didn't Start The Fire

by snarechan



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-21
Updated: 2009-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarechan/pseuds/snarechan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone asks, it really wasn't them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Didn't Start The Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apocalyptic](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=apocalyptic).



> Anx wanted: _Amarant/Zidane, We’ll never speak of this again._ I am seriously in love with this game, and getting to write these two together was _great._ A little rough at first, but overall I love this one. Edited by Cassandra Cassidy.

The bar was on fire.

It was a rather impressive blaze, the flames several feet high and engulfing the entire building by now. The smoke was thick, streaming into the sky, and would have been easy to spot if the night didn’t absorb it. The glow from the fire took care of that, however, lighting up that part of town and alerting anyone who hadn’t already smelled the smoke or felt the heat roiling off of it to the fact that _the bar was on fire._

People were running around in a panic, fleeing the scene to safer places or scurrying to get help, except for two figures that were lost amongst the crowd. One of them, a blond man with a long tail of matching color, was standing to the side in torn clothes, looking more fatigued than frightened at the spectacle, while the much taller man beside him, with blue skin that was bleeding in places, looked like he wasn’t feeling much of anything at all.

“Hey, Amarant?” the beaten man started. His companion grunted, perhaps to encourage him to finish, or perhaps to clear his throat so he could spit out the blood that had been pooling in his mouth.

Though he did the latter, his ally took it as the former, and said, “What we did tonight was kind of stupid, huh?”

“ _We?_ ” the one apparently called Amarant finally spoke, tilting his head enough to indicate that he was seeing the other, even if his hair obscured the fact.

“Well, okay. I guess I kind of started it, but we finished it.”

“Monkey-boy, this incident is all you.”

“Monkey-boy,” whose name was actually Zidane, snorted at the other’s comment, before wiping one of his bracers across his nose to check if it was broken or wounded, and thankfully it came back clean. It felt sore, though, kind of like the rest of him.

“Yeah, okay; you keep telling yourself that.”

Amarant shook his head and turned to walk away from the sight, parting with, “Keep telling myself _what?_ Nothing happened tonight.”

His associate paused to contemplate this as he looked back at the bar, which was definitely still burning itself to the ground, and decided that, for once, they were both in agreement.

-Fin-


End file.
